


Hide Yourself Away

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [136]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Sometimes you just need to hide from the world in the arms of your love. And he’ll always let you do it.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [136]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	Hide Yourself Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imnotrevealingmyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotrevealingmyname/gifts).



No matter how old you were, no matter how big you were, sometimes you just needed a cuddle. Before the world ground to a halt, you’d never really taken notice of that sort of drive in you, but now that you were locked down in your apartment with Loki, you couldn’t get enough of it. Even before all this, of course you’d appreciated his arms and his body and the way he held you so close, but now things were different, somehow. He was so much more than you’d ever thought he could be.

While you were working, he let you be. You could shoulder the weight of the world—or at least the weight of your tasks—and be completely fine. You could slip into that I’m an Adult and the World Continues to Turn mindset and get all of your daily tasks completed with relatively few problems, except for maybe a little extra eye strain from the computer screen now that you were working online. But as soon as you logged off and pushed away from the computer, you stood up and stretched and rolled your neck, and then immediately went off in search of Loki.

Each time you went to him, he put aside whatever else he was working on and welcomed you into his arms. He’d let you climb into his lap on the couch and hide your face against his neck. He’d wrap his arms around you, and usually slid one hand beneath your shirt to caress your back. He wasn’t shy about making sure you knew how much he loved the goosebumps that he could conjure into your skin. You certainly weren’t shy about moaning or whimpering into his shoulder when he made you feel good. It was like you could melt right into him when he held you, feel him in every inch of your body even as you breathed the scent of him deep into your lungs. He’d let you sit there, straddling his lap, for as long as you needed. When you felt like yourself again, sometimes you’d slide out of his lap and sometimes you’d give him a sly grin. He always caught on.

Often, he was not sitting on the couch. You would find him in the kitchen. Over these long months, you were slowly growing more and more accustomed to see him in your space like this, so domestic, taking care of human chores that had once felt absolutely preposterous for him to undertake. Like washing dishes. Or cooking. Or sweeping. Or doing absolutely anything to contribute to the cleanliness of your apartment. You liked to come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. You’d press your cheek against his shoulder blade and sigh in relief. Sometimes you felt him chuckle, felt it resonate through his chest, and he’d make some comment about how you were going to give him an inflated ego if you kept sighing like that every time you touched him. Sometimes, though, he wrapped his fingers around your wrists and held you without saying a word.

It was like he just understood your need for contact. From the very first time that you’d done it, the very first time that you’d pressed your whole body against his like you needed him to hold you up, he took it all in stride. He didn’t tease you about it. That was good. You were afraid that if he made any sort of comment about how needy and clingy you could get, you’d be so embarrassed that you’d have to stop it forever. And that was silly. He teased you about other things, sure, but you knew that it was always with deepest affection. He had yet to discover a single hidden part of you that he didn’t apparently adore.

When you went to him for a more traditional hug, standing face-to-face for barely a moment before ducking your head to rest beneath his chin, he held you with such a warmth. And that’s all it was in those moments: warmth, not heat. You’d had partners in the past—mostly men—who had been all too happy to turn a tender moment into something more lascivious. You’d go to them needing softness and they would play along for a few moments before grinding themselves against you. 

Not Loki. 

Now, granted, he was not shy about showing you what you did to him. He took pleasure in your body, in all its plumpness and curves, and in moments like those, his eyes burned with a hunger that always stole your breath away. He could look at you like he wanted to devour you, could look at you in a way that made you want to hide yourself away from him, at least until his grasping fingers brought you to the edge and tipped you over. 

But you never needed to worry about him spoiling moments like these. When you went to him seeking shelter from the world of obligations and responsibilities, he let you hide in his arms. He made you feel like no one could get at you there. He held you. Sometimes you tried to find the right words to tell him what it meant to you, but it always ended up the same: with you struggling and sputtering while he laughed quietly and held you tighter. Sometimes he pressed one hand to the back of your head and murmured “I know, love,” into your hair.

After a while in the same position, he would slowly begin to rock from side to side. Every time he did, it provided you with such a strange yet familiar sense of comfort. He would step from one foot to the other and carry you along for the ride until you were dancing together. With anyone else, you might have wanted to laugh at that—at the awkward prom-style dancing where you just held each other and stepped around the floor—but with Loki it felt like something so much more. Every time you felt strong enough to lift your head and look up at him, he was already looking at you. At this point, the love in his eyes was no longer a surprise to you, but it was precious nonetheless. He’d meet your gaze and his smile would grow just a little wider and sometimes he’d dip you backwards so he could press his lips to your throat. 

Before all this had happened, before you fell in love with him, you never would have so much as dreamed about possibly finding such peace in Loki’s arms, but now you couldn’t imagine life without it. As much as he relished his reputation for chaos and mischief, he provided you with a solid foundation. He was your safe place to land. He was your solace in a strange and ever-changing world. And he did not make a big fuss over it. He acted as though it were just...expected of him. But only in the best way. He did not seek your gratitude. He welcomed you into his arms each time as though your mere touch was enough to repay him. He spoke to you in a low voice and scattered kisses along your cheeks and the top of your head and never once made you feel like you did not belong exactly where you were.

For a long time, it was hard for you to understand. How could a man like him possibly be happy with you, with all your flaws and weird quirks and neuroses? How could he like being in this dull apartment with you when you both knew he’d given up his room—if not an entire floor—back in Stark Tower? You were kind of a wreck for a while. It was like you were just waiting for him to turn to you and grimly reveal that, as much as he loved you, he needed to leave soon for his own sanity.

But then one night, you stood by yourself in the kitchen. You were making dinner, stirring something in a pot on the stove, and you heard Loki’s quiet footsteps enter the room behind you. Before you could put the spoon down and turn to greet him, he was pressing himself against your back and wrapping his arms around your waist. You recognized this position immediately, and smiled when you felt him rub his cheek against your shoulder. He stayed like that for a while before he spoke.

“Ah, love.” His voice was quiet, and rough with emotion. “Now I know why you hold me like this.” He slipped his hand under your shirt to caress your belly. The smallest part of your brain, the part that always wanted to cringe away from touches like those, _there_ , it made you want to pull away from him, but you fought the urge in favor of the more difficult choice: The choice to allow yourself to enjoy him. You felt him mouth your shoulder through your shirt, felt him bite you so gently. “But I’m afraid it’s only raised more questions.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” your voice sounded a little shaky, but you didn’t have any mental space right now to feel weird about that. Loki knew what he did to you. He always had. 

He hummed his agreement against your skin, and then kissed your neck. Neither of you acknowledged the little shiver that ran through you. “Like...how do you ever bring yourself to pull away again? I’d like to keep you here in my arms until the end of time.”

There was no doubting what he said. You felt your cheeks grow warm and you dropped your hands to squeeze his forearms. You thought for a moment, and then gave him the only answer that came to mind. “Because if I pull away, I know I’ll be able to kiss you, and that will always be worth it, to me.”

He growled then, low in his throat, and loosened his arms just enough so you could turn to face him.

And, true to your words, you pulled him down for a kiss.


End file.
